


And Yet You Linger

by Macremae



Category: Wooden Overcoats (Radio)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Spelunking, smol detectives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-04 20:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5347370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macremae/pseuds/Macremae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Piffling's detective pair hatch a matchmaking plot, but what happens in the convoluted cave system doesn't always stay there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Career Day at Piffling Junior High was always one of Rudyard’s favorite appointments, because it was one of the few times that he was given the opportunity to talk about himself for an entire half hour. The students were always enraptured with his talks, as everyone knows, children are fascinated with dead things. Especially if those things are people.

This Career Day however, was different. He would be sharing the spotlight this year, and with Eric Chapman no less. The insatiable urge to ruin the pompous, irritating, unfairly attractive bastard’s name was stronger than ever, but even Rudyard had to admit, it was best to lay low after the whole “people thought he was a serial killer” business.

I myself was simply glad to have things back to normal, especially with Antigone’s surprisingly headstrong determination to “bring sweeping changes to this place”. A mouse’s heart can only take so much.

Perched on Rudyard’s shoulder, I looked out over the sea of students crowding through the hallway. A frightened looking cluster of 5th graders huddled tightly together, heads down against the fray of older students pushing around them. Two gossiping blondes threaded their way through the crowd, as various students chatted by their lockers. 

My gaze fell upon two figures arguing next to the gymnasium door. One was Pembe Kouri, who had moved to Piffling a few months ago and built up a reputation as someone not to get in a verbal row with. Gesturing animatedly at her was the village’s most intelligent resident (which honestly wasn’t saying much), September Edgewood, who had recently gained some competition in the detective field. Unlike the person who I was currently riding upon however, she took it good-naturedly, which annoyed Pembe to no end. 

Curious as to their conversation, I scurried down from Rudyard’s shoulder and up onto the covering of an air vent. From there I made a flying leap, landing gently in September’s large halo of dark, curly hair.

“I mean honestly Pem, it’s really quite obvious. Can’t you see it?” she asked, waving her hands about.

Pembe raised an eyebrow. 

“See what exactly?”

September sighed as if the world’s weight was truly upon her shoulders. “The sexual tension!”

“Excuse me? Between who?”

“Mr. Funn and Mr. Chapman of course!”

Pembe’s mouth dropped open, and she stared. “You cannot be serious.”

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be? C’mon Pem, It’s true love!”

“More like true loathing. Look, there are two problems with your brilliant plan, one being the very apparent fact that Chapman is head over heels for that Georgie girl!”

“So?” September replied, undeterred, “There’s a thing called bisexuality you know.”

“I do, in fact, because I am one. Sep, practically everyone in the village wants to get in his pants, do you really think if he was anything other than straight, he would have taken advantage of that?”

“I dunno, he doesn’t seem like the type of person to sleep around. And how do we know Georgie isn’t his first female crush? There’s a lot of information on him that’s anything but public.”

“Alright, fine, but problem number two: Funn hates him. Truly and totally; he does not make it a secret.”

“So? People’s opinions can change. Besides, do you remember that time I was late to your violin recital because my mum needed me to get some more raspberries from the market?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

September grinned. “Well, as I was heading towards the Fine Arts center, I cut through a back alley onto Forwell Street, where both their shops are. As I was walking past, I saw Chapman storm out of Funn Funerals, looking pretty pissed off, and Rudyard open the door a few seconds later. He then, no lie, stared right at Chapman’s backside and said ‘someday’!”

Pembe went silent and blinked several times. “He was checking him out?”

September nodded furiously. “I know what I saw. Plus, concerning the whole Georgie problem, there’s one thing you’re failing to take into account: underneath all that charm and politeness, Chapman is manipulative. He’s got the entire town wrapped around his finger, knows it, and plays every situation to his favor. The guy has the most masterful control over his environment and emotions I’ve ever seen. Do you honestly think he’d let himself go absolutely nuts over a girl?”

“Love makes people do strange things.” Pembe replied as she huffed and crossed her arms.

“Pembe, love is just a chemical reaction in animals’ brains that compels them to breed. Chapman’s too good to not have some ulterior motive for this.”

“Which would be…”

“Making Mr. Funn jealous!”

Pembe sighed and opened her mouth to argue, but paused. “... And you’re sure?”

Knowing she had won, September beamed. “Absolutely! Now can I tell you my brilliant plan?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope! Okay, so here’s the idea…”

Having heard enough to be worrisome, I crawled as discreetly as I could down the skirt of September’s peacoat and scampered back to Rudyard’s pocket. He was arguing with one of the teachers about the length of his time slot, but I was too busy contemplating what I had just heard to pay much attention.

I knew, of course, that it was my duty as his best friend to warn him about any sort of matchmaking plots in the works, but I had to admit, in the words of Georgie whilst gossiping one day, “Rudyard really does need to get laid”. Perhaps not with that severe of a mindset, but still. As for the second pawn in the girls’ scheme… well, that would remain to be seen. 

Career Day passed as expected, with only a minor explosion in the chemistry lab, and one class gerbil getting loose (Richard assured me that it was quite exhilarating). September and Pembe wasted no time putting their plan into action, as the former dropped by Funn Funerals the very next day.

Rudyard was chipping away at a pile of paperwork when the door opened, September hurrying out of the torrential rain. 

“Hi Mr. Funn, are you busy?” she asked.

Eager for any reason not to write out yet another financial report, he replied, “Not particularly.”

“Well, that’s great because do I have news for you! I was working the counter at the post office, my mum runs it you know, when Mrs. Pickford came in to pick up a package. She started talking with Mum, and I overheard that her husband is on his last legs thanks to a bad case of pneumonia. They’re 99.9% sure he’ll kick the bucket soon, so she’s taking him on a cave tour this afternoon as a sort of “do it before you’re dead” thing. Problem is though, pneumonia and damp old caves don’t mix at all, and there’s a good chance he’ll be gone before they make it out of the caves. So I was thinking, who would want to know about this more that you? No one, of course, so here I am.”

Oh, she was good.

A grin quickly spread across Rudyard’s face, and he tossed his pen aside. “Thank you for bringing this to me September, you’ve been very helpful indeed.”

Her part done, September slipped out the front door, while Rudyard threw open the one that led to the moretry and yelled down, “Antigone! I’m going to the cave system to catch Mr. Pickford when he dies! Be ready when I get back!”

“We have a cave system?” came her voice. 

“Yes, you did a report on it in second grade, now start getting things ready!”

He didn’t wait for a response, and slammed the door shut before hurrying out. Had Rudyard not been so focused on his destination, he would have noticed Pembe exit the establishment across the street and high five September as she followed her along a shortcut to the caves.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which lots of things fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS FINALLY DONE HALLE-FUCKING-LUGHIA

Contrary to (very) popular belief, Rudyard was a patient man. At least, he considered himself to be. There were many things he could put up with: breaking machinery, a decrease in coffee every morning, and finding his sister's questionable novels in inconvenient places, to name a few.

However, Chapman's utterly incessant chatter along the winding pathway through the caves, coupled with the fact that he was there in the first place, was wearing Rudyard's patience rather thin. It was also cold, wet, dirty, and did he mention that Chapman was within twenty feet of him? 

In a monumental act of self-discipline, Rudyard bit back the snide remark practically bouncing on the tip of his tongue, and focused on the state of Mr. Pickford, which was not deteriorating as rapidly as he had expected. Odd. Nevertheless, the occasional cough was encouraging enough to keep his eyes on the prize, and not whatever Chapman wanted to talk about. 

It was probably something stupid anyway.

\--

Unbeknownst to the group, two tiny figures were perched upon an outcropping several feet above. Their dark clothes and skin blended into their surroundings, and their whispers echoing off the cave walls sounded remarkably similar to trickling water. 

In her hand, the smaller one held a handful of stones, which she tossed down in front of the group below. Most of them dodged the loose rocks, but two stragglers in the back were not nearly so observant. 

\--

When Rudyard felt his foot slip on something, he yelped and grabbed for the nearest rock jutting out from the cave wall. Unfortunately, there was no such outcropping to be found. His hand instead landed on Chapman’s shoulder, who had reached out to pull Rudyard back from the edge of the slope. The two were tugged backwards by gravity, and tumbled head over heels down the hill, getting considerably scraped up in the process.

Rudyard fell flat on his back at the bottom, Chapman landing on top of him and bracing himself upright, his arms on either side. They stared dazed each other for a moment before Rudyard’s brain (and heartbeat) caught up to the situation, and rather compromising position he was in.

“Get off of me!” he exclaimed, flushing a shade of red usually reserved for only the most flamboyant of lipsticks. 

“Oh, right, yes, sorry,” Chapman stammered, turning rather pink himself. He pushed himself off of Rudyard and sat awkwardly next to him. 

Rudyard stood up and took a few steps up the crumbling hill, before sliding back down again. 

“Well,” Chapman observed, “we certainly won’t be going back the way we came.”

“Yes, _thank you_ ,” Rudyard replied snidely, “I never would have noticed that on my own.”

He sat down sulkily at the base of the hill and drew his legs up to his chest. “Fantastic. I’m trapped in a cave, _you’re_ here, and I’ll probably miss Mr. Pickford’s death too!”

“Really?” Chapman said brightly, walking over and sitting down next to Rudyard, who quickly scooted away. “I’m here for Mr. Pickford as well. Word is that he has a bad case of pneumonia.”

Rudyard decided not to grace that obviously gloating remark with a reply. 

“Anyway,” Chapman continued, “I suppose we’re going to be down here for a bit.”

“Joy,” Rudyard grumbled, looking disapprovingly down at his muddy shoes. 

Chapman finally took the hint and fell silent. The blissful quiet lasted an entire three minutes before he spoke up again.

“I just want to know one thing, though.”

Rudyard groaned. “If it’ll make you shut up, then fine. What do you want?”

“Sorry, but… why do you hate me so much?”

Rudyard’s head snapped up, and he stared. “That’s your question? Really?”

Chapman shrugged. “I understand the whole bit about ‘rivalry’, but you always take it so much deeper than that. I just want to know the reason.”

Rudyard gave him a withering look, and went back to silence. 

“You’re being childish,” I told him from my spot on his shoulder.

“Nonsense,” he muttered under his breath, “I’m being smart. There’s no way in hell I would ever tell that arse something so personal.”

“He just wants to understand. He’s trying to be nice!” I protested. “Can’t you consider that for even a moment?”

“No, because it’s stupid, so I won’t.”

“You’ve ranted to me about this practically every day, and it hasn’t done you a lick of good.”

“So why would telling _Chapman_ make things any better?”

We argued like this for several minutes, before Rudyard sighed in defeat. “And you really think it’s a good idea?”

I nodded. “You need to get this off your chest, and I’m not really anyone who can do anything about it.” Rudyard gave me an apprehensive look, then glanced up.

“Chapman,” he said, whose gaze darted to him, “you’re right. It’s not because of that. It’s just…”

“My family’s been doing this for centuries. It’s, it’s just what we do, y’know? And Antigone and Georgie and I were continuing that tradition, and everything was fine, and then you show up and ruin it all! Lines and lines of Funns and I’m the one idiot who couldn’t get it right. It hurts, knowing that. And then, I mean, Piffling is my home! I’ve lived here all my life, I know it backwards and forwards, and yes people didn’t really like me that much, but it was still my home! And now you were here, not even for a day, and everyone suddenly wants to give you their bloody firstborn or something! It’s hard enough when my own sister likes you better than me, but my own village? I’m not even needed anymore, much less wanted.”

Rudyard took a deep, shuddering breath. “It would have been better for everyone if I’d just rotted in that prison. No one would have missed me anyways.”

He sighed again and stared at the ground. “I don’t know what you were thinking,” he told me, “that didn’t help at all.”

Suddenly, Rudyard heard the sounds of shifting rocks, and felt a warm hand cupping his chin. He turned, slowly, and found Chapman’s face a few inches from his.

“Do you really think that?” he asked.

Rudyard’s heart was thumping wildly, but he managed to say, “O- of course.”

“Well that’s rubbish, all of it. There are lots of people who would miss you.” Chapman looked away shyly, then back. “I know I would.”

They were remarkably close, Rudyard noted. In fact, if he leaned in a little bit more, he could probably…

Wait.

What was he thinking?!

He jerked back, face blushing so brightly it was visible even in the dim cave light. “Yes, well, er, thank you, I suppose.” 

Chapman smiled, and Rudyard’s heart did a funny little flip. “No need to thank me for the truth.”

They sat there and talked for a little while longer, and for the strangest reason, Rudyard found he didn’t mind so much when Chapman fell over laughing when he told him about the incident with the broken embalming machine. It was actually kind of cute.

Which was merely an unbiased observation, and in no way an actual opinion of his. 

The spelunking party _finally_ looped back around after a while, and if when Rudyard was forced to hold Chapman’s hand as they were pulled up, he complained quite a bit less than usual (that is to say, not at all), that was just politeness obviously.

“Hey,” Chapman noted as they left the cave, “it’s stopped raining.”

Rudyard had also observed that, but he was more focused on the very much alive state of Mr. Pickford. “Isn’t he supposed to be dead?”, he asked.

Chapman frowned. “Y’know, I do believe he is. Odd.”

“Wait,” Rudyard asked, realizing a rather important detail, “how did you know he was going to die in the first place?”

“Oh, one of the children I talked to from the school told me. What was her name… Pembe, I think?”

“Really? Her friend, September, told me the exact same thing.”

They looked at each other, realization dawning. “You don’t think…” Chapman began. “No, they couldn’t have,” Rudyard finished. “I mean, they’re just children.”

“Yeah,” Chapman reassured himself, “absolutely no way.”

“Say,” he said, changing the subject, “when we first met and I invited you to get a drink with me; that offer’s still open.”

Rudyard, much to his surprise, found that he very much did want to take Chapman up on that. “I suppose it beats telling Antigone I don’t have a body for her,” he said, pretending to be begrudging

Chapman’s face lit up, and Rudyard felt his heart do that weird little movement again. “Great! Excellent, great!”

The pair headed down the dirt road back to Piffling, failing to notice two things: the giggling pair of girls watching from the bushes, and a brilliant rainbow that painted the sky above them.


End file.
